Actions Speak Louder Than Words
by JadeJedi
Summary: He'd never told Rose he loved her. Not only that, but he'd never told her how much he loved her. Part of it was because he had been afraid, but the big part of it was that he couldn't find the right words. But he'd shown her. Actions speak louder than words, right? But maybe . . . they didn't always speak loud enough.


The Doctor slumped back in the pilot's chair in his TARDIS and buried his face in his hands. He'd never told her he loved her, and now he never would. Because she was trapped. Forever, in Pete's World, with his metacrisis, who had been brave enough to tell her. Even Pete's World doesn't sound as nice without her, and it was a really great name.

He'd never told Rose he loved her. Not only that, but he'd never told her how _much_ he loved her. Part of it was because he had been afraid, but the big part of it was that he couldn't find the right words.

But he'd shown her. Actions speak louder than words, right? But maybe . . . they didn't always speak loud enough.

He'd shown her when he'd asked her to come a second time. He'd never done that. It wasn't just because he was lonely; he'd seen something in her, something bright and beautiful.

He'd shown her when he'd said, "You look beautiful . . . for a human." Anyone else, and he wouldn't have said that last part, because he'd never meant it as much as when he'd said it to Rose. It had frightened him that he could already care for her, and think so highly of her when he'd only known her for a few days, so he added 'for a human' to make it safer.

He'd shown her when he's said, "I could save the world but lose you." Why did he always have to put the universe before her? Why was it always Rose or the world? The Doctor supposed he was lucky that it had never really been up to him.

He'd shown her when he refused to leave her in Van Staten's vault with the Dalek. That had been the first time he realized that he did truly love her.

He'd shown her when he had told her, "You're wish is my command." When had he ever told anyone that? Since when did he break the laws of Time for . . . a human girl?

He'd shown her when he let her bring her pretty boys on board, even though he would have liked to have thrown them out an airlock. If it made her happy, fine, they could stay.

He'd shown her when he sent her away from the Game Station. He couldn't let her get hurt. Ever.

He'd shown her when he'd died to save her. Jack might have thought she was worth fighting for, but to the Doctor, Rose was worth dying for.

He'd shown her when they'd gone to New Earth. He really loved that coat after all. He wouldn't put it on the ground as a blanket for just anyone. But for Rose, it hardly seemed like anything.

He's shown her when they met Sarah Jane. He'd almost told her then. He had almost told her he loved her. But he couldn't. Because she would wither and die.

He'd shown her in that parallel world when he had chased after her, and then agreed to go to parallel Jackie's birthday party. It had been dangerous, as well as stupid, but what was he to do? Say no to Rose?

He'd shown her even when she wasn't watching, when the Wire had stolen her face. Because Rose was what kept him fighting. He had fought to keep her safe, because he wouldn't let anything harm her. Because if he lost her, he'd thought it might break him. Obviously, he had been right.

He's shown her on Krop Tor. When he had decided not to go into the Pit, it was because of her. He had sworn to never abandon his Rose, and nothing was going to change his mind. He'd almost told her then as well. Right before he jumped, he'd wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he'd been a coward. And he would always regret it. He'd also shown her by trusting her. He believed in her, and he knew she would get out.

He'd shown her during the encounter with the Absorbalof. It wasn't every day he tracked someone down because they'd offended a companion's mother. But they were his family. He would've- and still would- do anything for them.

He'd shown her at Bad Wolf Bay. That horrid beach. He'd left her there, with his metacrisis. When she had asked him to finish his sentence he'd wanted to. He'd wanted to tell her he loved her, but he couldn't. He had to do the right thing by Rose. So he hadn't said it, instead he let his metacrisis say the three words that had haunted him since 'Run!'

And he would continue to show her, everyday, how much he loved her, even if she wasn't here, by never, ever forgetting her.


End file.
